Lions and Kittens
by GigiPuff
Summary: First Gen. AU "She was a lioness amongst kittens. She overpowered them all and that was why they fit so well together." TonyxOC SkinsUK


**_Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Skins characters. I am not making any profit from this piece of work, and this is purely fiction. _**

**_A/N: It's an AU, but only a few things are tweaked really. Like, Michelle is dating Sid instead of Tony, though they dated a while back. Some events will be done differently than in the show, but it'll follow the show. This takes place in series 1, first generation obviously. _**

* * *

_'I wish I could sing a different song. I can't look good singing this song. Why the hell am I even here? Hardly any of these girls can actually sing. They just fade their voices into the background so they aren't as noticeable.' _

Because Mummy demanded she'd be there every Friday after classes. Mummy wanted a daughter in the chamber choir so she can brag. Mummy needed the perfect child. Emma never understood why Mummy pushed her into perfection. Look at her. Long curls of golden wheat falling down her back in her ponytail were kept tight by the blue ribbon in her hair; laughing green eyes clean of make-up stared straight ahead as the choir director examined each singer. Her uniform would've shrouded her slender figure if she hadn't taken it in, and the skirt went a little below her knees to shadow the shapely calves underneath. Her voice goes between Alto, Mezzo-Soprano, and Soprano. She receives top marks in all her classes; her teachers praise her work over and over. She's done charity work in the town animal shelter and the orphanage in London. She's charming, witty and sociable.

She didn't have perfection. She _owned_ perfection.

The song 'God Only Knows' will be performed at the city music concert in a week. Choirs come from around Bristol to sing in front of "captivated" audiences. Most of them are from expensive schools where all the kids dress like copies of each other. Usually, for their group, Mrs. Burbage asked the girl to nominate two or more girls for the lead part in the song, and then she'd have the final word. This song, however, is a duet sung by a boy and girl. Emma had no idea who'd the boy would be yet, but Mrs. Burbage said they had a few boys sign up for the part. This made _all_ the girls want a chance at the part, so possibilities of grabbing her rightful spot diluted when more girls turned in their own names. Although, this wrench in her goals never stopped her. She'd get the part. She should get it. She knows this song better than any girl in the group; her voice is one of the few who can hit the highest; she is an experience performer and is gorgeous. The part belongs to her; they might as well hand it over now.

"That was incredible girls!" Mrs. Burbage, the short-haired choir director beamed. "We're doing so much better than last week. You'll be pitch perfect by the time the concert comes around." Mrs. Burbage stood up from the piano to collect their songbooks. Once all collected on her piano top, she addressed the group, "Well, let us proceed to business...As we do every year, one of you is lucky enough to stand in front of a whole audience to lead the choir. You all nominate one of your own and I choose from those two. And as we do every year, we have come down to only two nominees...Emma Matthews," She and Emma exchanged grins, "and Abigail Stock."

Emma felt an instant rage boil in her stomach. Abigail Stock sat a few chairs away from Emma. Her light blonde hair around her thin face, she could be considered a lankier, paler, less attractive version of Emma. Her narrow nose subtly resembled a bird beak, and her posh accent irritated the ears. She tried being sexy by having the first few buttons opened, though this seemed pointless. The shirt underneath covered everything she'd reveal. In her opinion, Abigail tried too hard for attention. She threw tantrums when she was denied, and then went to her mother about it.

The two girls came to the front of the room. The slim, middle-aged woman stared at each of them a second before speaking. "Now girls, I wish for you both to know I thought very long and hard about this decision. You are both lovely, talented, enthusiastic girls with such a raw passion for music. It doesn't matter who is picked for this concert, because the runner-up will lead the winter concert and is the stand-in for the lead. I do not want claims of favoritism here, alright?"

"Yes, Mrs. Burbage."

"Yes, Mrs. Burbage."

"Wonderful," She smiled. "After thinking about it for a while, I think Abigail will be best for 'God Only Knows'."

A flurry of whispers rose from behind them. Emma thought her knees might collapse; her palms grew slightly sweaty and she wondered whether she heard correctly.

"Abigail? But Mrs.-" Emma began,

"-Oh my gosh! Thank you so much for this opportunity, Mrs. Burbage!" Abigail nearly squealed. "I promise I totally won't let you down. I will actually make us look good on that stage."

"I know you won't, Abbie," She replied. The two watched Abigail skip back over to her group of friends as they indulged into whispers and giggles.

Mrs. Burbage met Emma's eyes. She saw the apology in them; the slight regret hidden in them behind the false delight. Emma thought she might slap someone. This was not supposed to happen. That spot was hers. She worked night and day on that stupid song just so she can prove she deserved it.

"Abigail? Again?" Emma let out absentmindedly.

"I'm sorry, Emma." Mrs. Burbage said, "But that is my final decision. If it makes you feel better, you'll be singing lead in the winter concert in a few months. That has a much bigger turn out than the fall concert."

_'But I wanted this concert. My parents are actually coming to this one. Both of them. Together.'_ "But this is Abigail's third time at a-"

"-Emma, please," The director's eyes practically pleaded with her.

_'Her mummy probably called you and forced you to pick Abigail. She bought you off most likely. Ugh, stupid woman. I knew you were an idiot the second I saw you. Why do people with no brains have all the authority?' _She thought angrily. _'You're such a weakling if you let a batshit nut-case push you over.'_

"That's...It's fine, Mrs. Burbage. Sorry, I just...I really wanted it is all," Emma blinked as though tearful. "I worked very hard on it."

"I know you did," Her hand touched Emma's shoulder. "You're one of my best singers, Emma. Just keep practicing and you'll get your chance. I promise. The fall concert is really a prelude to winter, so think of it like Abigail headlining for you. Does anyone ever pay attention to the headliner, Emma?"

"No..." Emma gave a sigh, crossing her arms and shuffling her feet, "I suppose you're right. Abigail does have a nice voice, so she will not do so badly."

Mrs. Burbage smiled at the comment. Emma could've laughed, but she felt that might give the game away. She walked away from Mrs. Burbage over to two girls standing by a window: A slight auburn haired girl in pigtails texted away on her phone while a willowy tanned girl with thick dark curls checked herself in a small hand mirror. They both tried concealing smirks as Emma came towards them. Then the dark-haired one spoke:

"You must be soooo pissed right now," She teased. Sunaina Patel loved teasing people, sexually or verbally. People found it as one of her less-than-endearing-qualities, but her teases amused Emma. Not to mention, her background gave her this natural beauty for an edge.

"You have no fucking idea," Emma gritted. "That ditzy cunt probably bought her way into that spot. I know she did. That spot was supposed to be mine; you know it was. Burbage has been hovering over me all week like a hawk. She was going to pick me. I could tell she was going to pick me."

"I'm surprised you didn't give her a big slap when she went on about being _sooo_ grateful," Sunaina said. 'I thought she'd never shut up."

Emma slung her bag over her shoulder. "It's not fair. Why the fuck does she get all the solos? She's not even that good of a singer. Her voice cracks if she hits too high a note, and she sounds like she's singing in a tub full of water."

The red head laughed, "I'd say more like a dying bird. You know to match her beak?"

Natalie Beck, smaller than the others by a few inches, leaned against the wall with her school bag strapped over her shoulders and sitting beside a stack of textbooks. She typed away something on her phone before stuffing it in her pocket. Brainer than the other two, her intelligence kept Emma interested and knew everything about everyone. Her habit of sneaking into the background must've been in part to her height and thin frame, but mainly her silence kept her under the radar.

Emma thought her irritation might never go away. She felt like slapping Abigail every time she heard even the slightest hint of her voice somewhere in the room. A hand touched her shoulder again. "It's okay. Honestly, the song is totally tacky and cliché," Natalie said, "Do you really want to sing a song like this? I wouldn't."

"Your voice is made for a better song," Sunaina added. Abigail is a whiny twat, and you're a fucking princess. Remember that shit."

She smiled at them. Tension left her shoulders as her friends patted her comfortingly. Natalie pecked her cheek, "So? What do we do? Leave it well alone or get it for you?"

"Ah, let the little bitch have it. The song is dumb anyways. I'd rather beat myself with a stick than be seen singing that song to some town boy." Emma turned and saw Abigail. She still seemed in amazement about her role. The excitement lit up her eyes, making her talk animatedly in her stupid accent. "It's all she's got to look forward to. What kind of person would I be to take that away from her?"

Natalie snickered. "A vindictive one."

"If it makes you feel better, the male leads are going to audition soon. We can hang around and watch," Sunaina told her as she grabbed her bag, "A few of them are actually kind of cute."

"And remind her of how she won't be singing with them?" Natalie scolded, "Yeah, let's go hang a dead fish in front of starving cats and see how they react. What if he's like super cute and Abigail ends up all over him when Emma should be? No. Don't put her through that. Let's go grab some lunch at that town cafe you like, Em."

"Oh come on, we might see one we like," Sunaina linked her arm around Emma's. "I want to see who we'll end up watching squirm away from Abigail when she throws herself at them."

That did sound entertaining. The poor boy will have no idea how much he's in for when he joins the choir. An all-girl's group from an all-girl's college who hardly speak to boys? He'll have more to worry about than just if he can remember the lyrics. Perhaps he will be cute like Natalie says. Naturally, he can't be _that_ good looking since he's either some awkward socialite or a rowdy town boy. Though, he'd be enough for the others in the choir.

"We'll stay. I wanna see the auditions."

Natalie sighed, but Sunaina smiled. When they approached the large group in front of the piano, Abigail moved out from her circle of friends. All of them watched Emma in mixtures of smugness, envy and pity. She did not need it from nobodies like these girls. Abigail thought they she had them under her heel. She believed because they hung around her, she was some kind of queen.

"Hey Emma," She said, "So sorry you're not leading again this year, but I guess sometimes we're not as talented as we think we are."

_'The nerve of this bitch.'_ "Oh you're right. We certainly aren't. It's alright though, Abbie. I have The Winter Concert to look forward to I suppose. You need a more experienced voice for such a big-time show. Congratulations on your spot, though. Totally well deserving, if somebody asked me."

Abigail's eyes burned through hers. "The girls want to know if you're still coming to my party tonight. They think it'll be so safe if you and the rest of your flock showed up. My parents are out of town, so we're just gonna go wild tonight."

'Wild' in Posh meant dancing to mainstream pop music, drinking spiked punch, and either talking or getting to second base together. No drugs or alcohol because of how picky Abigail's mother is about odors in the house. Sex was prohibited since the rooms upstairs were off limits. Not many people show up either since she personally invites everyone; has a shit DJ because Hugo wouldn't know good music if it hit him. The girls normally avoided their parties after the last one (one of the Sarah's birthday celebrations). They left mildly buzzed, completely clean and alone. Emma preferred the club scenes in town or the wild parties the college kids across the green throw on the weekends. They know fun.

A light bulb lit in her head. She grinned brightly.

"Super. We'd love to go."

"But Em-" Natalie began,

"-Oh come on, Nat. What kind of person would I be to ignore an invitation to a nice party?"

Natalie understood. She plastered on a wide grin, "Sounds wicked. I know I'll be coming."

"Me too," Sunaina said.

"Super!" Abigail cheered. "The party's after 8:30, when Miriam gets back from her cello recital."

"That's great. We'll be there."

Abigail gave her one last smile before twirling around to her group. She watched Abigail's friends crowd around her like some Greek goddess, while others now shuffled away from her closer to Emma. Was there a power struggle here? Perhaps. Did she just find something fun to do on a Friday night? Yes.

"So, plan later, I assume?" Sunaina whispered when the trio took a spot in the back.

"Yes. I am going to get that little bitch. Who does she think she is? Waving the spot in my face like that and then inviting to a party where she can gloat more? Then she has her little sheep around her so they can all tell her how amazing they think she is." Emma couldn't take her eyes off the blonde. She wanted to strangle her. "That spot was mine."

"Here we go..."

"No, Sunaina, I deserved the spot," She harshly whispered. "Burbage hinted all the time I might get it. This was my chance to shine and that psychotic bitch stole it. Then she wants to sit and play friendly with me. She'll probably follow me everywhere the whole night."

_'She'd never be us in a million years, the fucking freak.'_

"Oh calm down," Natalie said. "I'll find The Ugly Stick and you can beat her with it."

"She can't. Somebody already did."

They both laughed, though Emma found laughter difficult. Her mind turned out all kinds of possibilities and capabilities. She'd use all her strengths for this one. She thought all throughout the first three auditions: A baritone who stuttered, an alto that sounded more falsetto, and the last one could've been mistaken for upset stomach. She considered everything that will upset Abigail or ruin her party. She took in what would make her see that Emma owned these people, not her. Seeing her throw a tantrum will be the funniest thing in the world. She smiled a little.

"Oh...My...God," Sunaina's consistent nudging almost bruised Emma's side, "Look at him."

A tall boy in a navy sweater atop a red shirt came to the podium last. The sweater gave a general outline of his broad shoulders, no doubt concealing the muscles attached to them. His khaki pleats neat and clean covered long legs. His black hair perfectly combed so a bang swung over his bright blue eyes, he carried confidence in his step. She sensed it all over him. He'd nail this audition because he'd be the best.

"Our last audition is Antony Stonem," Mrs. Burbage told them. "Antony, what will you sing for us today?"

"'On the Street Where You Live'," He replied.

"Oh, from 'My Fair Lady'," She practically swooned at the sight of him, "Such a nice song."

'_Oh fuck me…She's in love with him too…'_

"Let me know when you're ready and we'll begin."

He nodded and cleared his throat. Emma watched him begin in a soft low voice before changing ranges. She found him fascinating. The other boys stood slouched or posed. Antony stood with perfect poise, hands at his sides, and chin up whenever he faced them. He smirked each time his eyes landed on the dozens of girls in front of him, giggling, smiling and licking their lips at him. Emma saw how much he relished in their admiration of him. He pretended not to notice, though he never fooled Emma. She saw the enjoyment in his eyes. Blue pools danced over various girls in the crowd; he scanned each of them like browsing at a book store. The ones getting the most attention blushed or turned away from his eyes. Emma stifled a giggle.

"Em!" Natalie nudged her quickly.

"He's such a tool," Emma whispered. "He's fucking loving this. He's pretending like he doesn't know that every girl in this room wants to shag him."

Sunaina smirked. "He's fucking gorgeous. Can you imagine what all that's like minus the clothes?"

"Abigail seems quite interested," Natalie pointed out.

Emma looked over to Abigail. Sure enough, her eyes were glued to this town boy. She checked him up and down in a secure smile that quickly turned into a blushing grin when he met her eyes. She must be falling for him like everyone else. Emma grinned. She imagined Abigail might be quite smitten with Antony soon, since he's _so irresistible._

"Wouldn't it be the most tragic thing if somebody took little town boy right from under her?" Natalie took the plan right out of her mind. "I mean, she seems to like him so much. It'd be horrible if he took interest with another…"

Emma admitted he was handsome. She pictured him without his sweater and shirt. His skin will be perfectly unblemished. He'd shiver at the fingers trailing his hard muscles, the lips pecking on the soft skin and teeth tugging at the tender flesh of his neck. He'd beg for more. He'd tremble at the very feel of her. Emma would turn him from a cocky ham to a panting, sweaty mess.

His eyes fell on her eventually. She did not smile or blush. She simply laughed at him. Can someone be so arrogant? So sure of themselves?

Upon the last note of the song, Mrs. Burbage turned to him. "That was lovely, Antony. Really, quite lovely."

"Thanks," He said.

"I'm sure we'd love to have you in the chamber choir."

"Looking forward to it."

Emma watched him head for the door before being stopped by Abigail. Surely, the boy will be invited to her party where she can continue trying to intrigue him. This was it. Yes.

'_Dear Tony, you have no idea how much more handsome you just became.'_


End file.
